


Keith Kogane and Lance McClain - Water Drinking Contest

by 2dsickfics



Series: Voltron: Legedary Defenders Fics [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Nausea, Sick Keith (Voltron), Sick Lance (Voltron), Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:07:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19469308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2dsickfics/pseuds/2dsickfics
Summary: Keith Kogane and Lance McClain - Water Drinking Contest fic from my tumblr.





	Keith Kogane and Lance McClain - Water Drinking Contest

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: Voltron/South Park/an anime/whichever you like. Ch. A and ch. B are prideful people. A challenges B to a drinking contest. Ironically, B wins and A has a hard time throwing up by himself. More fluff or more angst, work however you like most.
> 
> I am SO sorry I didn’t get this done. It would have been up sooner if I had known it was sent, sorry anon.

“Well, I bet I can drink twice as much of this weird bubbly stuff as you!” Keith threw back at Lance, further provoking the younger towards making this stupid idea into a stupid contest.

They’d been arguing over who they _thought_ could drink the most Altean water, but now it was turning into a game of who could _actually_ consume more. The flavour was faint, a slight bitter feeling in the throat after swallowing, but they were adamant that this would be a good idea and not cause a mess. Mostly because they hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Okay, fine! You’re on! But don’t complain to me when your tummy hurts after your third drink!” Lance jeered, escalating the red paladin’s temper severely.

Soon after that there had been a set of chairs and a table before them and 20 water pouches on each side. Neither of them were going to get all of them down, especially with the weird carbonation they had going, but they were damn well going to try. The only others in the room were Pidge (who thought this was incredibly stupid and a waste of time, but wanted to see their misery), and Hunk, being a genuinely curious person and wanting to know the winner.

Both of them had gotten slower on their fourth drink, Lance less so, unsurprisingly, and by their sixth Keith already looked ill. His cheeks had gone extremely pale and his hand was straying to his bloated midsection whenever it could. Pidge suggested they stop because Lance was starting to look uncomfortable. When Lance reached his tenth, stomach groaning and throat working overtime, and Keith was only halfway through number 8, they decided to call it quits as the winner (however miserable) was obvious.

Lance had finished off the rest of the drink quickly, protesting against his angry belly, and immediately burped as one hand flew to his mouth while the other cradled his sore tummy. The trash can he stumbled to was small and filling quickly as he loudly rejected the water, so Hunk made the decision to move him to the bathroom stemming from the room they were in. Lance’s pain continued for a while, forcing him to stay in the bathroom for a good 15 minutes.

Keith, having not made a single noise yet, seemed to be holding back gags aas he closed his eyes and hunched forward. Pidge had gotten him a bucket, however the raven had shaken his head and squeezed his eyes tighter, a few beads of sweat dripping down his temple. When Lance composed himself he noticed Keith’s struggle and spoke up.

“Hey, Mullet? Is something wrong?” He asked gently, recieving only the shake of a head in response. “Liar. You obviously need to get rid of the water or you’re not going to feel any better, idiot.” He tried digging up anger to make him open up, but even that didn’t work. Forceful actions were looming in the back of Lance’s mind as he tried to think of anything else to help.

“Okay, do you want a distraction?” A last resort of sorts, but worth a shot.

“No. Need to focus.” It was choked as fast as possible before he clamped his hand over his lips.

Right, then. Forceful action it was.

“Okay, just concentrate on breathing. It’ll help calm you down.” Lance reassured, moving to rub the elder’s back. He slowly stroked the boy’s spine before hurriedly wrapping an arm around his waist, a hand on his stomach and the other darting for the bucket as he pushed his hand down _hard_.

The effect was immediate and Keith retched the Altean drink into the receptacle with a hollow splash. The taste of bile burned his throat and he choked and gagged more liquid into the plastic. He drank less, so it didn’t take long before he was done, albeit very shaken.

“Wha- Why did you- I- Don’t _DO_ that!” Keith, exhasted as he was, jumped up and grabbed Lance’s shirt, pulling him to eye level. “I had it under control, and you- you-!” The adrenaline of anger wore out quickly and he sagged back into the seat. 

When he was sat down again he realised he actually did feel better aside from the fatigue and shakes, but he still hated it and was definitely not going to admit it. He just stood and walked silently to his room, quietly grateful he was no longer suffering beneath the irritation.


End file.
